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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23128993">Betrayal + Acquittal + Home + Aftermath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mac + Desi + Zayn [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MacGyver (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexual!Desi, Everyone Continues to Need Therapy, Feelings, Fluff, Multi, S4E02 Tag, Sort of. In my AU., This is cute and sweet and fluffy but also contains healing, aka some good stuff, nonbinary OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:02:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23128993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After being nationally wanted for a short while and facing off with a kidnapper, Desi is ready for some rest with her favorite person.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)/Original Character(s), Angus MacGyver/Desiree "Desi" Nguyen, Desiree "Desi" Nguyen/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mac + Desi + Zayn [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1374475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Betrayal + Acquittal + Home + Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Desi was ready to take a shower and pass out for three days.</p>
<p>The guy had put up a good fight before she’d gotten his gun, landed a few heavy hits that were already aching and needed to be tended to. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, frustrated. LA traffic was not being kind to her after the day she’d had. </p>
<p>Zayn was in the passenger’s seat, staring out the window and humming along to the radio. That was the good part of tonight. The best part of having them on the team, really. She could drive them home, and even if they didn’t say anything, she had company.</p>
<p>She’d never admit to it, but even Desiree Nguyen felt lonely sometimes. Especially in this line of work. </p>
<p>It was a shame Mac had turned out to be an ass before she’d managed to convince him to sleep over with Zayn. She would’ve liked to have them both next to her, surrounded by people who cared.</p>
<p>Gross. That was sappy. </p>
<p>Her whole body tensed as a guitar riff and drumbeat she knew like her own name started to play. She wanted to change the station. It hurt, though that was another thing she’d never say out loud. But it was too late, because Zayn was already air-guitaring; besides, she knew it was their favorite song, and if she had to grit her teeth for three and a half minutes to make them happy, she’d do it. </p>
<p><em>“‘Oh, show me show me show me how you do that thing, the one that makes me screeeeeam,’ she said!”</em> Zayn’s eyes were closed and they were jamming and Desi’s heart was caught between loving joy and pain. <em>“‘The one that makes me laugh,’ she said!”</em> </p>
<p>She could hear Mac’s voice singing along. They’d done karaoke, sometimes, mostly at Zayn’s request. Desi said yes for the alcohol and to watch the two people she loved make fools of themselves, but she would occasionally get up there, too. The only song anyone could make Desi sing karaoke, ever, was Mr. Brightside, but Zayn and Mac did their 80’s music and ABBA and Mac and his <em>stupid</em> Phil Collins. Phil Collins wasn’t even karaoke music.</p>
<p><em>“Threw her arms around my neck. ‘Show me how you do it and I'll promise you, I'll promise that I'll run away with you.’”</em> Zayn’s arms twitched there, and Desi knew what they were thinking, because she was thinking it too: every time they hit that lyric, Zayn would jump and toss their arms around Mac and he’d catch them, every time, with the most beautiful smile on his face and they’d both laugh and Desi had never loved anything more in her life.</p>
<p>Christ. </p>
<p>She tried to moderate her foot on the brake, tried not to leave imprints of the steering wheel stitches on her palms, tried to focus on the red light in front of her. On anything but the memories of MacGyver.</p>
<p>It was thwarted when Zayn hit their favorite lyric, drew it out sweet like they always did. <em>“Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?”</em></p>
<p>They always looked at Mac real soft on that one; it was the closest to a confession they’d ever gotten. He never noticed, because he always sang that line to Desi - and then they’d switch, because it repeated, and Zayn would say it to her and Mac would say it to them. </p>
<p>It was annoying how well the three of them fit together, even now, when all Desi wanted was to cut him out and keep him from hurting her - from hurting <em>Zayn</em> - ever again.</p>
<p>The song ended and Desi managed to loosen her grip on the steering wheel. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” Zayn said quietly. “I know it hurts.” They didn’t tell Desi she was hurting herself, that she could have Mac back if she wanted, things could be fixed - not that either of them actually believed that, anyway, but it was a nice story. But she knew they thought something along the same lines, would swear Mac was still in love with her - and maybe he was, but she wouldn’t be vulnerable twice.</p>
<p>Desi shrugged. “It’s your favorite,” she replied, and that’s what it always boiled down to. She was no stranger to hurt. She’d bear a world of it to keep Zayn smiling. </p>
<p>They leaned over to kiss her cheek and Desi was a lot less annoyed about the red light taking ten years to turn, because it meant she could chase their lips for a couple more, pulling Zayn’s hand to her chest.</p>
<p>They broke away, laughing. “You’re <em>driving</em>,” they protested, but they let their hand fall down her arm to tangle with her fingers. “Also, I’ve been thinking this for a few days - it’s pretty hypocritical of you to criticize Mac for his love of 80s pop, seeing as you have a lyric from a Smiths song tattooed on your collarbone.”</p>
<p>Desi gasped in mock offense. “The Smiths aren’t <em>pop</em>!”</p>
<p>“1986, though.” Zayn tilted their head, the way they always did before they were going to make what they considered a great point. Desi loved the tilt. “Only a year before you were born, I might add.”</p>
<p>“He wasn’t even born til ‘91, he didn't grow up on this. He has no right to like it as much as he does.” She snickered at Zayn’s look of offense, having been born the same year as Mac. “Besides, 80s alternative and rock isn’t bad, it’s just the pop stuff that’s garbage.”</p>
<p>Zayn laughed. “Oh, bullshit, there’s so much overlap in those categories and you know it. Besides, you couldn’t stop smiling when Mac and I were singing ‘Manic Monday,’ and that is undeniably pop.”</p>
<p>“Pop rock.”</p>
<p>“Oh my god, you’re impossible!” Zayn threw their hands up, nearly hitting the roof of the car. “Besides, The Cure is New-Wave Alternative, anyway.”</p>
<p>The light was green now and Desi was gunning it, otherwise she absolutely would’ve gone in for another kiss or three after that. When they made it back to the apartment, she did, dragging Zayn up the two flights of stairs and pulling them into the apartment before shoving them up against the door. All thoughts of showers and sleep were gone, and she had one goal on her mind. </p>
<p>Except when Zayn’s hands found their way to her back, she hissed in pain and pulled back sharply. </p>
<p>“Oh, baby, what did he do to you?” Zayn whispered tenderly.</p>
<p>Desi shook her head. She didn’t want to think about it. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” All she wanted was to stop thinking and feel loved. She went back in for another kiss, but Zayn caught her by the chin.</p>
<p>“Let me take care of you,” they demanded, and Desi sighed. She couldn’t argue with that. </p>
<p>She stripped off her t-shirt carelessly and tossed it in the vague direction of the couch. “I’m fine,” she repeated while Zayn circled her, taking stock, but they sucked in a sharp breath when they got to her back. Desi wasn’t sure what the bruises looked like, but all of it was tender from where she’d gone tumbling over the chair, among other unpleasant parts of the fight.</p>
<p>Zayn wrapped their arms carefully around her waist and rested their cheek against her shoulder. “If the guy who did this to you wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him myself.”</p>
<p>The thought of Zayn attempting to fight her attacker made Desi laugh, but then was replaced by a prolonged stab of fear. She twisted to look at her partner. “Listen, I don’t want you in the field,” she said. The way Zayn’s eyebrows shot up and they took a step back told her this wasn’t going to be an easy one, but she plunged onward. “Just - stay in the lab, what you did today was great.”</p>
<p>Zayn snorted. “Yeah, no, that’s not your decision.” They crossed their arms and Desi missed their embrace already.</p>
<p>“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she pleaded. Pleading was not a standard Desi move, but she would never try to force Zayn to agree to something. “I - the guys we’re up against are tough.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, and so am I,” Zayn replied. They came around to stand in front of Desi. “I used to do field work, too, remember? That’s how we met.”</p>
<p>“But it’s different now.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I’m still me. 50% more nerve damage, but same old Zayn Raffoul.” They pressed their hand against her cheek. “I’m not breakable. I never was.”</p>
<p>“I just - I want you to be safe.” Desi squeezed her eyes shut, imagining a world where Zayn had been with her that day, imagining a world where Zayn had gotten shot in the apartment. She didn’t think that was a world she could stand.</p>
<p>And then Zayn started laughing, which was uncharacteristically unempathetic of them. Desi opened her eyes and glared. “What’s so funny?” she demanded. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, it’s just -” Zayn wheezed. “You realize you’ve had this argument before, right? Except it was Mac telling you to stop taking stupid risks because he didn’t want you to get hurt.”</p>
<p>She remembered that fight. Now she could admit it hadn’t needed to be a fight, that they could’ve just...sat there and talked it out like two adults. Like she was doing with Zayn right now. But god, she’d been so offended at the insinuation she couldn’t take care of herself.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Communication always was our issue.”</em>
</p>
<p>She’d never ever tell him, but shit, he was right. </p>
<p>“Look, I know you hate therapy. I know!” Zayn held up a finger as Desi started to protest. “I know you hate going in and sitting on a couch and talking to a doctor about your problems.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have problems,” Desi grumbled, but she couldn’t even bring herself to believe that one. </p>
<p>Zayn tactfully ignored it. “But you need to do <em>something</em> because you’re not actually as mentally healthy as you want people to believe, darling. You’re traumatized by the losses you’ve experienced, you’re afraid of losing people, especially me getting hurt or killed, to the point of clinical anxiety, and you act like it’s you against the entire world and someone’s always trying to piss you off.”</p>
<p>Desi snapped her mouth shut. That was...a pretty undeniable summary.</p>
<p>She took a deep breath. “Okay. Is there anything I can do besides go see a fucking therapist?”</p>
<p>“If I find you some clinical workbooks online for dealing with PTSD and anxiety, will you use them?” Zayn asked. </p>
<p>Desi didn’t really think she had PTSD, but the anxiety was uncomfortably spot on, even though hers manifested much angrier than the typical portrayal. “Yes.”</p>
<p>“And will you admit that you were always waiting for Mac to fuck up and that’s part of what ruined your relationship?”</p>
<p>Desi gritted her teeth. “I mean, he did, though. He definitely said and did a lot of things that were fuck ups.”</p>
<p>“I mean, yes, and I’m not denying that.” They sighed, somewhere between fond and sad. “He’s a dumbass, for all his intelligence. And I know you don’t have the kind of patience that I do. But there were a lot of times where you just assumed the worst. Like the fight about you taking risks.”</p>
<p>It all circled back rather neatly. Desi sighed. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.”</p>
<p>“I’m always right,” Zayn replied teasingly.</p>
<p>“Except for your music taste.” Desi smirked at Zayn’s protest. “And when someone asks you to name anything about history. Or to do maintenance on a car. Or -”</p>
<p>“Okay, yes, sometimes I’m wrong!” Zayn laughed. “God, you’re impossible. C’mon, let me ice your face.”</p>
<p>“My face?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you’ve got a bruise on your cheek again.”</p>
<p>“You’re sure that’s not from last time?”</p>
<p>Zayn snorted. “I keep inventory of all your injuries.” Their voice lowered. “You’re not the only one who’s afraid to lose the person they love, you know.”</p>
<p>It hurt, but Desi pulled them into the tightest hug she could. “What would I do without you?”</p>
<p>“Kill Mac. Or die. Or both,” they mumbled against her shoulder. “Now can I please take care of you?”</p>
<p>Desi smiled. “Yeah, I guess.”</p>
<p>“<em>Thank you.</em>” Zayn led her into the kitchen, pulling out a couple bags of vegetables. “Here, let’s get the swelling down.” They handed her some frozen peas for her cheek while they took a long bag of corn and pressed it against her shoulders. “You smell like sweat.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, cuz I was sweating,” Desi replied, laughing. “What, you don’t love my badass aroma?”</p>
<p>Zayn did not dignify the comment with a response. “You must be starving. Can I make you anything while you shower?”</p>
<p>“Vine leaves?” Desi grinned mischievously. </p>
<p>“That’s a meal, not a snack, and it’s a meal that takes <em>time</em>.” Zayn rolled their eyes and kissed her cheek. “If you want that, you better be fine waiting hours.”</p>
<p>“I’d wait forever for you,” Desi teased, earning a groan. “It’s true though.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know. I know you can’t say anything too romantic without five layers of irony.” Zayn kissed an unbruised part of her shoulder. “I’ll make you grilled cheese so you don’t have to wait forever for me, alright?” </p>
<p>Desi nodded. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Now go shower. And give me the vegetables back!” Zayn shooed her out of the kitchen, snatching the less frozen peas back as she started walking away. “I love you. Don’t rush, okay?”</p>
<p>Desi wasn’t rushing anything. The desire for a hot shower had definitely returned, and besides. She knew Zayn would be right there waiting when she was done.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I realized that if Mac is the only perspective character, that leaves a lot of Desi's motivations and feelings unexplored because they are <em>clearly</em> not talking about it. I wanted to do something sweet with her but also to see her side of things, why the situation is what it is now. Plus I just love her.<br/>Hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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